In the Beginning

When I was a kid, I was in love with Rainbow Brite.

I'm pretty sure that's where my love of the fabulous began.



My parents had a brown couch that I would pretend was Starlite, my trusty steed. I would sit across the top of the couch and pretend to galloping along rainbows or streets paved with gold or just around the living room, I wasn't picky. I would make my brother or an unsuspecting neighbor kid be Twink, my sidekick. (Yes, Twink. Hello, gay agenda.) And I was Rainbow Brite, off to save the Color Kids. I told people that my favorite color was rainbow and that I was the queen of the rainbows. I was five, so it was cute. There was also a period of time where every cookie my mother made had to be in the shape of a star, and I pretended they were my star sprinkles.

I would also put on theatrical shows in my living room, singing the big hits of the time; typically any Disney song that struck my fancy. Again, my brother would be my backup singer. Often in one of my nightgowns. I had a yellow Beauty and the Beast nightgown that I was particularly fond of putting him in.

I started dance lessons when I was three, choir when I was eleven, and theater when I was eighteen. If that isn't a gay man's mating call, I don't know what is.